Dragon Desire. Lisette Ashton

       Prologue

      ‘Dragon horn!’ declared Robert of Moon Valley. He said the words the way a court conjurer might whisper voilà before triumphantly unveiling the effects of his stage magicks. There was a broad grin across his handsome features. He brushed the fringe of sandy hair from his brow. His leer of devilish anticipation sparkled.

      ‘Dragon horn?’

      Tavia and Caitrin asked the question in unison.

      Tavia and Caitrin were twin daughters to Duncan, castellan of Blackheath. The young women were famed throughout the Ridings for their complementary beauty. Although their faces were identical, Tavia’s tresses were as fair as a unicorn’s pelt, whilst Caitrin’s locks were as dark as raven wings. Both women were of age, chaste and desired by every able man in the North Ridings.

      Tavia took a wary step back toward the chamber door.

      Caitrin made an eager step toward the crystal carafe. It stood surrounded by three silver goblets on a ceremonial tray beside the four-poster bed.

      ‘Dragon horn?’ Caitrin marvelled. ‘Are you serious? Where did you find it?’

      ‘Are you tempted?’ Robert asked. Casually, he toyed with the pendant that hung from a leather strap around his neck. It was a length of pitted iron, black age spots pock-marking the dull metal, the head fashioned to look like a demonic skull. The pendant was reminiscent of the sort of old and archaic key that might open a dungeon doorway.

      ‘Dragon horn has been forbidden by the castellan,’ Tavia whispered. ‘There shouldn’t be a drop of that stuff in the North Ridings. There certainly shouldn’t be any in Blackheath.’

      ‘Is it true what it can do?’ Caitrin’s eyes sparkled as she switched her gaze from Robert to the carafe. She was ignoring her sister, mesmerised by the temptation on offer. ‘Is everything I’ve heard about dragon horn true?’

      ‘What have you heard?’

      As he spoke he lifted the crystal carafe and splashed a gill of the golden liquid into each of the three waiting goblets. He didn’t need Caitrin to reiterate the legends that were associated with dragon horn. He knew all of them and had made up many more. Dragon horn was a legend amongst legends. Nevertheless, he longed to listen to her whisper all the salacious rumours about the reputed benefits of the drink. There were few things more arousing than the voice of a chaste woman talking about illicit sex.

      ‘I’ve heard that the sight can melt the clothes from a maiden’s bosom,’ Caitrin breathed. ‘I’ve heard that the smell can wring a woman’s oil from her petticoats. I’ve heard the taste can fire a princess with such a wanton lust she’d happily rut with slaves and stable lads.’

      ‘Caitrin!’ Tavia gasped. ‘Where have you heard such things?’

      Caitrin wasn’t listening to her sister. She had taken a step closer to the goblet. Her nostrils flared as she drank deep lungfuls of air with the obvious hope of inhaling the drink’s forbidden aroma.

      ‘I’ve heard that dragon horn can spark a fire within a woman’s nether regions,’ she began. She swallowed, shook her head and began again. ‘I’ve heard that dragon horn can spark a fire within a woman’s nether regions that is so strong it could melt iron. I’ve heard it can spark a fire so constant it makes her thighs sweat rivers.’

      ‘I’ve also heard that,’ Robert admitted. He smiled knowingly and said, ‘I’ve seen that.’

      She gave him a sideways glance. Her eyes had grown wide and the forget-me-not blue irises shone dully. ‘I’ve heard that a taste of dragon horn can harden a healthy man’s hardness and lengthen his longing.’

      Robert

Скачать книгу